Le Petit Prince et Sa Rose
by anaisninja01
Summary: After more rejection, Remy seeks the advice of a very wise man. Short little Romy. Final chapter posted.
1. Le Prince

            Hank McCoy was man of words.  Well, a mutant of words, at least.  He'd read the sayings of many a wise man and woman, and he had seen the fundamental truths they describe enacted in the world around him.  One of his favorite books was a dictionary of quotations.   He liked to thumb through it every now and then, looking for wisdom to impart the children who surrounded him and permeated his life.  He was currently sitting in the library of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, monitoring the research of one of the newest students.  A girl named Laura, who tended to seek out…inappropriate material.  As it was, she was looking for sources for a paper about the importance of prostitutes in Latin American literature.  Laura did not require his undivided attention, however, so Dr. McCoy felt free to peruse his book of quotations.

            "Dr. McCoy, I think I've found what I need."

            "Excellent.  Go work on that paper now, and I'll edit it, if you'd like.  I'll be in here reading," the big blue guy replied.  Laura nodded and walked to the door.  When she opened, the library filled with the sound of two other students fighting.  Well, one student shouting and another desperately trying to calm the shouter down.

            "But, cherie—" 

            "Don' you 'cherie' me, swamp rat!  If Ah find you reading my diary again, Ah'll put you in a coma…permanently!"

            Dr. McCoy rolled his eyes good-naturedly at Laura who glanced back at him in total shock.  "It's really not that uncommon, dear.  You'll get used to it.  Leave the door open; it's far too quiet in here."  Laura scoffed, unbelieving, and slinked out into the hallway, trying to evade the attention of her peers.  Smiling, Dr. McCoy looked back at his book, and his eyes were immediately drawn to a certain Thomas Mann quote.

            Just then, Remy slouched into the library, having finally been defeated by his lovely Rogue.  Well, abandoned by her anyway.  Rogue had taken the arm of some newbie, dragging the poor girl, saying something about a promise to go to the mall.  [Meanwhile, a very disgruntled Laura was composing a paper in her head, while trying to drive to the mall in her much beloved Jetta; Rogue's constant complaints were aiding in neither endeavor.]  He dropped himself dramatically into a chair.  "Why she so mean to Remy?  I ain't been nuttin' but nice to dat fille, and she treat me like de scum'a de earth.  Beast-man, you smart.  You got any advice fo' me?"

            Dr. McCoy laughed out loud and read the quote that had commanded his attention to his dejected young friend.  "'He who loves the more is the inferior and must suffer.'"

            "Dat's not what Remy wanted to hear, mon ami."  Once Dr. McCoy stopped the bout of laughter that followed Remy's response, he looked at his book once again.

            "Here is one you might like better, dear boy," McCoy cleared his throat.  "'There is no disguise which can hide love for long where it exists, or simulate it where it does not.'"  He looked to Remy to gauge his reaction.

            "Is dat so?  You t'ink Miss Rogue be wearing a disguise?  You t'ink Remy has a chance?"  Remy began to cheer up, thrilled by Dr. McCoy's implication.  However, he was not answered as encouragingly as he had hoped.

            Dr.  McCoy sighed and looked at Remy appraisingly.  "Have you ever read _Le Petit Prince_, Mr. LeBeau?"

            "Oui, it was my favorite story when I was a petit prince, myself."

            "Do you recall the chapter in which the little prince meets the fox?"

            Remy smiled fondly, "oui.  Le petit prince tames de fox and dey become friends."

            "Yes.  It is necessary to be very patient.  You must sit very far away and say nothing.  Words are the source of misunderstandings.  But everyday, you may sit a little closer," Hank paraphrased the fox's wise words on how to tame himself.

            "Remy knew you smart, Beast-man," Remy replied.  "Merci beaucoup, mon ami."  He stood and walked to the door, but Dr. McCoy's voice stopped him before he could leave.

            "'Les hommes ont oublié cette vérité, dit le renard.  Mais tu ne dois pas l'oublier.  Tu deviens responsible pour tourjour de ce que tu as apprivoisé.  Tu est responsible de ta rose…(1).'

            "Oui, je sais.  Je sais (2)."  And then he departed.

A/N:  This is my first _X-Men: Evolution_ fanfic.  I really hope you liked it.  I was just going through my quotation dictionary and the idea bunnies started hopping all through my head.  There was shameless self-insertion, but it was too overbearing, I hope.  I'm fairly sure this is just a one shot, unless there's an overwhelming demand for more.

Translations:

(1) "Men have forgotten this truth, said the fox.  But you must not forget it.  You become forever responsible for what you tame.  You are responsible for your rose…."

(2) "Yes, I know.  I know."

If you need anything else translated, email me.  And, by all means, REVIEW!!!  I'm a bit proud of this one, even if I did get far a-field with my literary references.  ^-^


	2. La Rose

'Is everyone in this town insane?!' Laura thought to herself, as Rogue followed her back into the Institute (still complaining bitterly about the "swamp rat").  Then, a brilliant idea struck her, and she headed toward the library.  Rogue still followed.

            Dr. McCoy looked up, as the Laura entered the library.  His kindly, "ah, you've finished your paper already," was met with an icy glare.  He then noticed Laura's companion and smiled.  She circled the room with purposeful idleness, while Rogue watched from the center of the room (still complaining bitterly).

            Laura came to the door and exited the room.  "Where are you goin'?" Rogue asked, quite confused.

            "Away!"  And then she door closed forcefully.

            Rogue stood in the center of the library, stunned.  She blinked away her shock and collapsed into a nearby chair.  She looked up when she heard Dr. McCoy chuckle.  "Ah'm glad you think this is so funny, Mr. McCoy.  You go right ahead an' laugh.  I'll just sit here, finding some comfort in the fact that my misery amuses you so."

            "You mistake me, my dear.  I am not laughing at your 'misery', as you call it.  Merely its futility."

            Rogue fixed an icy glare on her teacher.  Dr. McCoy briefly considered that he was not overly fond of young women's icy glares and that he was receiving more than his fair share today.  "What is that supposed to mean?" Rogue inquired venomously.

            "'The restraints we impose on ourselves to refrain from loving are often more cruel than the severities of our beloved.'"  Yes, three icy glares within a few minutes was quite unpleasant.

            "Ah'm gonna pretend Ah didn't hear that."

            "As you wish, but I ask you to entertain the thought of hearing this.  Whatever else Mr. LeBeau may be, he is sincere in his affections for you," Dr. McCoy said seriously, looking Rogue in the eyes.  She turned away with a petulant frown.  Then he lightly added, "and it might be in the best interest of the Institute's peace and quiet, if you would…reconsider his advances." 

            "What peace an' quiet," Rogue replied, with the slightest suggestion of a sly smile on her lips.

            "Point well taken."

            Rogue returned to pouting, with her arms crossed over her chest.  "Besides Ah don' need 'love'.  Far as Ah can tell, it never did anyone any good."

            "Aren't you a little young to be so cynical?  Rogue, dear, you needn't confide in me, if you do not want to, but you are certainly welcome."  It will never cease to seem strange that a man known as 'The Beast' could be so gentle and paternal.  It always struck Rogue as odd for such kindness to originate in the soul of a large, blue, ape-like monster.  Despite Rogue's appreciation for Dr. McCoy's tender concern, she began to feel cornered by his questioning.  Her eyes darted around the room, looking overly bright.  Her chest rose and fell quickly, and she began taking shaking, halting breaths.  Dr. McCoy moved to kneel by the chair in which she sat and gently stroked her back.  Rogue briefly flinched away from the contact, before realizing that he was protected by her shirt.

            As the first tear rolled down her cheek, Rogue laughed ironically.  She turned to face Dr. McCoy and asked him imploringly, "why….Why do things have to be so hard?"  She swallowed the lump in her throat, before continuing desperately.  "When Ah was a little girl, Ah used to wish to be special.  Ah wished that Ah'd meet Prince Charming and we'd live happily ever afta'."  Another ironic scoff.  "Ah guess Ah shoulda been more specific.  Ah'm certainly 'special', an' if my prince is anything, he's charming.  But now all Ah can do is push him away; to keep us both safe, ya' know?  Gawd, when did life start to suck so much?"

            Had the usually stoic young woman not been crying, Dr. McCoy might have laughed.  "When did life start?"  The corner of Rogue's mouth twisted up slightly in amusement.  "Don't worry so much.  You're young.  You'll have plenty of time to concern yourself with the whys and wherefores when you're an old woman.  In the mean time, 'he that shuts Love out, in turn shall be Shut out by Love, and on her threshold lie Howling in the outer daekness.'"  

Rogue looked at her teacher with wide eyes.  "That is without doubt the most frightenin' thing you have ever said."  She paused as if thinking about something very hard, her eyes still wide.  "Excuse me.  There's something I have to go do."  And with that Rogue ran out of the library.

Author's Notes:  This chapter really wrote itself…up until the last few paragraphs.  That's what's taken me so long.  I hope I didn't rob Rogue of too much of her coolness, and if I did, please forgive me!  And I really think this is it for this story.  I'll probably write more Remy/Rogue in the future, but not right away.  Right now I'm working on an X-Men: Evolution parody of "The Princess Bride".  I think it'll be called "Princess Bride: Evolution".  Please look out for it; I think it'll be amusing at the very least.  Anyway, I beg you to review (as always).  

Oh!  I nearly forgot to credit the quotes.  The first one is by LeRochefoucard, and the second is by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.  People knew what they were talking about back in the day.  ^-^


	3. La Fin

Author's note:  Really, this has to be the last chapter.  I want to warn everyone of something before you read it, though.  This chapter deviates greatly from the feel of the first two.  It's not artistic; it's not pretty; it's not even that romantic.  It's meant to be light, stupid, and funny.  Now that I think about, please don't read this directly after the first two chapters.  It'll completely ruin their effect.  Come back later, when you're in a goofy mood.  But please do come back!  And review!

Quick disclaimer/warning:  Besides not fitting with the other chapters style-wise, this chapter is also a bit naughtier.  More bad words and mentions of underage drinking.  If either of these things offend you, please turn back now.

"Love's gift cannot be given,/ It waits to be accepted."  Rabindranath Tagore

            Hand to God, there is no peace in this place!  All I ever wanted in life was to do well in school, get into a good college, and get away from my family.  The Lord, it seems, has other designs for me.  I discovered my mutation a few months ago (some freak-ass kind of empathy; I always knew I was too sensative), and my family shipped me off to Mutant Manor here.  Final step of The Master Plan complete.  However, every single nut job in this place is bound and goddamned determined to foil the rest of The Master Plan.  There I was being a good student and trying to write my essay more than forty eight hours before it was due.  I even did a little background research when the paper was only supposed to be analytical.  "Prostitutes and Honor in Latin American Literature".  It'll be published in a literary journal one day, but at the rate I'm going it won't be graded for my English class next week.

            Shall I start at the beginning?  After a highly misunderstood incident involving _The Kama Sutra_, Professor Xavier decided that I required adult guidance while exploring the Institute's library.  I mean really, who keeps books like that in school to begin with, like the kids wouldn't find it?  So, I was in the library with Dr. McCoy, looking up a few things for my super-awesome paper.  I finished my butt-whooping research and tried to go start writing, but the Lord intervened yet again.  I walked smack into an R^2 argument.  "Blah blah blah, swamp rat."  "Yadda yadda yadda, chère."  "Fuck you, Cajun." "If you insist, ma petite."  You know, the regular bullshit, or so I'm told.  I tried to make an escape, but to no avail.  Rogue used me as _her_ escape, and I got the distinct privilege of listening to her bitch and moan for fucking ever!  

After five thousand years and a trip to the friggin' mall, I managed to lose her in library.  I thought I was free.  I rushed to my lovely, lovely laptop to start working.  Just as I was getting into a groove, the "stupid swamp rat" had to come ask me a bunch of pointless questions, trying to ooze charm, but it was really just desperate curiosity.  He walked in the door without even knocking!  So what if the door was open?  It's the principle, right?  "Ah, bonjour 'tite Laure!  I hear you went out with ma chère dis aftanoon.  She din' happen to say anyt'ing 'bout lil, ole me, did she?"

I sigh and abandon all hope of getting any work done today; I'd rather read my new _Lupin III_ manga anyways.  Maybe I'll skip college and be a cartoonist.  "Yes, you were all she talked about."  His face brightens until I continue, "the whole damn time, 'swamp rat this', 'rat bastard that', 'thieving little rat', that sort of thing.  I'd be worried about her.  She's got a rat fixation."  I feel a huge swell of satisfaction, watching the confident, charming grin slide off of his face.  I don't really have beef with the kid, but he's been damned annoying today.

"Dat right?  De words 'cute', or 'sexy', or 'I secretly love him' nevah came up?"  I sigh and roll my eyes.  "Y'know, 'tite Laure, we both kinda new 'round 'ere, and could use an ally or two, hein?  So, I'm t'inking, you do me a favor—jus' put in a good word for me wit' Rogue—an' I do you a favor.  Remy can be a very useful friend."

I regard him warily.  "Okay, mon ami, here's how it's gonna work out.  I get you a date with Rogue, and a bottle of gin mysteriously appears under my bed.  Also!  The two of you shut the hell up and let me get my homework done.  Now go away.  I have some very serious reading to do."  I snatch my manga from my nightstand and start reading.  Remy makes a dramatic bow as he backs out of my room.  I settle into my pillows and begin to enjoy the adventures of everyone's favorite gentleman thief (read:  not the boy in my doorway).  But once again our Heavenly Father decides to intervene.  Just as Remy backs out into the hallway, Rogue runs smack into him!  And at that very moment, my mutation starts up in overdrive.  Lord, I'm sorry, but I'm converting.  I don't know what I'm converting to, but you are not my savior.

"Watch where yer goin', Remy!"  Hark, what's that?  A given name spoken in this house?  Maybe this'll be worth watching after all.

Remy starts laying it on thick.  Even before he opens his mouth, you can tell he's about to charm the pants off you (sometimes literally), or at least try to.  It's almost like a glow around him, like heat shimmers, only red.  He turns slowly to her and offers an even deeper bow.  He's a cheeky little bastard; while Rogue is rolling her eyes, he turns his head a little and winks at me.  His aura clearly says, "alright, 'tite Laure, it's your time to shine."  I cross my arms over my chest and lean back into the pillows.  I'm waiting for the right moment; I know it's coming.  

Scathing remark.

"So, you getting' bored with me and movin' on to helpless lil girls?"  I resent that remark, but the green shimmer around her indicates all the venom of it is directed at him.

Charming, but condescending retort.

"Chèrie, you know you the only helpless lil girl dis boy want."  Gag me with a pitch fork.  The "lay it on thick" vibes are rolling off him.  The room will positively stink of "Cajun charm" when he finally leaves.

Hostile response, with vaguely flirty undertones.

"Is that so?"  She's almost not angry anymore.  I wish Lysol made a spray to get rid of emotional impressions.

Proposition.

"Mais oui, chèrie.  Now how 'bout we go out tonight?  You know you wanna."  I never realized cocky-bastard-osity was an emotion I could sense.  Must tell the Professor.  But not until later, my moment is coming up, and it's about damned time.  I actually am getting frustrated, so it won't be much of an act.  Here it is.

Bitchy turn down.

She starts out slow and low, pitch and speed rising with every hateful word.  I'll never be able to get the pissed-off stains out of the carpet.  "If you think for one second Ah'm 'bout ta go out with a filthy—"

Intervention by frustrated peer.  That's my cue!

"For the love of God!" I shriek, indignantly.  I roll over to my nightstand and rip the drawer open, snatching out two twenties.  "Just go out with the stupid swamp rat, you harpy!  Here," I throw the money out into the hall, "on the freaking house!  Get a pizza, get some beers, get it on, and get it over with already!!  Now get out of my room."  Aaah.  Nothing like good old-fashioned shock to clear the air.  Rogue's looking at me like I've smacked her across the face, and Remy doesn't look much better.  I send him a pulse of "you happy now?!", and he gets the picture.  I shove them both completely out of the doorway, and slam the door.  I can still feel Rogue's shock, but it's slowly ebbing.  I press my ear to the door, and I can get a pretty good sense of what's going on.

Rogue couldn't believe it.  Remy couldn't believe it.  No one could believe it.  It was unbelievable, that's why. Remy's 'tite Laure, as she had come to be called by many people at the Institute, had just thrown possibly the biggest fit known to Mutant Manor.  It was several moments after the door slammed shut that Rogue shook herself free of the shock.  Then she glared at Remy, as if he was somehow to blame for the incident.  He tried his best to look innocent and shrugged.  Rogue's glare intensified.  She bent over than snatched the money off the floor.  Then she turned on her heel and started marching down the hall.

Remy watched her turn the corner and felt extreme disappointment.  He began to turn in the other direction, but before he could Rogue's head popped back around the corner.  She made a very frustrated sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a grunt.  "Well, swamp rat, ain't you comin'?"  Remy's face lit up as he realized what she meant, and Rogue favored him with a rare half-smile.  He trained his expression into a cocky smirk and began to saunter down the hall toward his girl, but not before casting a wave of gratitude at the closed door next to him.

By the time I finished _Lupin III_, it was very late, and I had missed dinner.  I guess everyone had wanted to stay clear of me once word of my tantrum had gotten around.  I meandered down to the kitchen to scavenge.  I found some boiled peanuts, which I had made a few days ago.  Hardly anyone had eaten them, except Rogue, Remy, and Sam.  I warmed up my peanuts in a bowl and grabbed a soda.  I decided to eat in my room and turned to go back through the silent mansion.  When I arrived in my room, I found the window open and a sheet of paper on my nightstand.  The note read:

_'Tite Laure,_

_I believe you'll find the payment we agreed upon under your bed, plus a bonus.  For your troubles.  I may require your services again in the future._

_L_

_P.S.—That's for LeBeau, you silly girl, not Lupin!_

I laughed out loud as a bent down to look under my bed.  Now it was my turn to be shocked.  I pulled out a large bottle of Bombay Sapphire, the neck of which was wrapped in a sapphire necklace.  I don't think I even want to know how that date went.


End file.
